The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1887-05-25
A BURG00.
THE MAKING AND DRINKING OF
GREAT KENTUCKY SOUP.
Graphic Account ofa Political Meet
ing in the Woods -Ingredi-
ents Of the BurgOo-Elo-
quence Versus Appetite.

Ontb VI LllC ouA Soo
quence Versus Appetite.
James Lane Allen gives in the New
York Post graphic account of an insti-
tuition peculiar to Kentucky. We quote
as follows:
! At. the first streak in the east, some
summer morning, an old negro man-the
older and blacker, the better-makes his
/ way to the heart of some beautiful blue
, grass woodland and begins the boiling
of the burgoo. By ten o'clock it must
, be done, for the next two or three hours
will be needed for the cooling. Every
thing has been arranged beforehand; the
kettles have been swung, the wood has
has been cut and hauled, the huge pad
die trimmed for the stirring, all the sub.
! stances that enter into its unequaled
composition have been put in readiness.
What these are it is hard to say. The
aged chief, with his clay pipe in his
mouth, puffs and shakes his head saga
ciously, and hints at secrets worth know
ing. But for the readers benefit shall
give the contents of single kettle that I
saw at a burgoo last summer. The kettle
itself weighed a thousand and fifty
pounds, and held two hundred and fifty
! gallons. The contents were, as far
as ascertained, four pounds of
beef, two dozen chickens, a bushel
of corn, a bushel of onions, tomatoes &C.
cording to the chst7s taste, a barrel Of
Irish potatoes, various peppers, notably
cayenne in burning quantities, and,
lastly, probably six turtles. But the ideal
! burgoo must contain, also, three geese.
, These are furnished by the old negro,
and must be neither bought nor begged.
In pain words, they must be stolen by
night, otherwise the burgoo will not have
; its perfect flavor. The farmer in the
neighborhood who misses three plump
geese from his flock has no right to COM
plain. If he fancies, as he smacks his
lips questioningly over his pint of burgoo
few days later, that he detects in it
the presence of his dear lamented birds,
established decorum forbids his asking
/ any questions.
Meantime, while the vast cauldrons are
bubbling and boiling. the morning ad-
vances and the little birds fly away from
the sickening heat and horrible scenes.
For near the kettle a deep trench has
been dug, fires have been kindled be-
meath, and soon the whole air is filled
with the odors of barbecued meat.
Across a single trench last summer were
stretched the juicy, brown sacriicial
offerings of thirty-nine bluegrass sheep,
and usually there is roast pig that would
have drawn from Lamb a better than his
heartfelt eulogy.
Not:faraway.is the dinner*table, made
of boards some two and half feet wide,
and on this they are beginning to pile
the dinner; thousands of loaves of bakers
bread, sliced ham, sliced tomatoes, little
piles of salt and pepper. By and by the
mutton and the roast pig, done to turn,
will be brought and carved. What
stacks of meat then! What ponderous
joints and mighty chunks! 1t is the age
of the carnivora. The meat must be
seized with the hands and torn with the
teeth and fingers, in the honored style of
DR.. johnson. The table groans beneath
its weight. Blowing across it, the wind
catches up the strange fragrance and
whiffs it away to the audience gathered
around the speakers stand. Hunger is
never a sin. Now it is virtue. Some
one detaches himself from the audience
and follows up the scent as straight as
bee would track the perfume of rose,
or bee hunter would ''liue" the bee.
But policemen are guarding the tables.
He stands at distance and his eyes de-
YOUR the sight. Others come. Soon
there gets to be line of hungry men
and boys passing to and fro between the
speaker and the dinner How fiat elo-
quence has all at once become! Let the
country go to ruin, if the dinner but be
saved! Will the honorable speaker never
be done2 Does he-can he-believe
that hungry people want to listen
to him for ever2 Can't he see
burgoo stamped upon every face before
him2 A terrible whisper has gone
around that it is cool-that already the
ungovernable greedy on the outside have
gotten to the kettles-driven away the
cook. How long-in Eeaven's name,
how long! Ah!-an old gentleman
starts forward from the rear the plat
form, in white heat of inpatient excite
ment, and whispers something in the
orators ear. Dinner at last, thank God =!
It is too late now to talk about good
manners. The time has passed for that;
there is shout-a rush-a charge upon
the tables. AS the crowd comes, it is
met by hail-storm of tin cups that are
thrown up from behind the tables and
fall down upon the heads or are caught
by outstretched hands. Thousands of
them glance bright in the sunshine: 1'hcyy
are for the burgoo. Get to the table, if
you canl Struggle like man. 1t is the
old original battle of humanity. Seize
your half-leg of mutton, your ribs of
shoat, your bakers bread, and now make
for your burgoo to wash it down. You
have been as quick as anybody, but how
many there are before you! They are
lying down here, there, yonder, every
where, in twos and threes, and little
companies, under the shade of the trees
their tin cups full eating, drinking,
laughing, the battle is over.
The barbecue did not, of course,
originate ia Kentucky, but it is claimed
that the burg S!s&~ Thence it has
spread to other regions stGtn!' and west.
Of old the custom had in thh State its
high political import. 1t formed q
notable feature of those anniversaries neld
in honor of "Old Dick johnson" and the
Bottle of the Thames. 1t went some
times with repimental and battalion